


Sherlock CharacterxReader One-Shots

by sophia_m



Series: Fandom One-Shots [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Drabble Collection, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and happiness, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Sorry, M/M, One Shot Collection, Sad and Happy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-23 23:42:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9687677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophia_m/pseuds/sophia_m
Summary: A series of oneshots, ranging in length and content, with a character from Sherlock with reader. Most will canon divergence AUS and while it says one-shots it will mostly be short drabbles.Sorry if any of the characters are OC (especially Sherlock).





	1. Sherlock

"What do you see in him? He seems like a freak." The barista smiles at me as he sets my drink down on the counter. "You could do a lot better."

Rolling my eyes, I take my coffee without a word. Sherlock's already waiting at the door and when he sees me approach, he swings the door open but as he glances down at the cup of coffee, a scowl appears on his lips. Before I can take a sip, Sherlock grabs the cup from my hands and pulling a pen from his pocket, he scribbles something out. Handing me the drink back, he seems to be holding himself a bit straighter.

I look down at the cup, frowning at the scribbled mess as I try to decipher what Sherlock crossed out. "What was written?" I ask curiously with a glance up at Sherlock as I take a small sip. 

"He wrote his number but you don't want him; he's a serial cheat and a cocaine user." Sherlock replies as I take up a small sprint to catch up with his long strides. 

"You've done cocaine." I remind him with a grin. 

Coming to an abrupt halt, Sherlock turns to me with a glare. "I haven't used anything in months. And the barista is also rude to women and me alike." His jaw clenches as he finishes his sentence. 

"How on earth can you know that he's rude to everyone from less an a minute of interacting with him?" I ask, standing front of Sherlock with my arms crossed over my chest. 

"He called me a freak after less than a minute of interacting with me." Sherlock mutters, tilting his head down to meet my eyes.

Rolling my eyes again, I continue down at the sidewalk. "No offence Sherlock but at times you can be pretty freaky." I joke without thinking clearly about my words. It takes a few moments before I realize Sherlock hasn't continued after me. Turning back, I find Sherlock still rooted in place with his eyes turned to the ground. "Oh shit, Sherlock I'm sorry. It was a joke, albeit a shitty joke. I wasn't thinking."

Walking back down the sidewalk, I stand in front of Sherlock. "Everyone has called me a freak, even strangers in the streets and my own brother, why wouldn't you?" He hesitantly meets my eyes and I'm surprised at the emotions I see in his eyes. 

"Woah, I didn't call you a freak; I said that at times you can be freaky. I know it's not much better but when I said freaky, I meant your deduction thingy. The fact that you can look at someone and know their entire story is kinda weird. Not that you're weird or freaky, cause you're not." I pause for a moment, tilting my head to the side as I risk grabbing one of Sherlock's hand. "I'm sorry." I repeat myself quietly. 

"I accept your apologize." Sherlock blinks once and whatever I saw in his eyes disappears, being replaced with his normal gaze. Pulling his hand away, he starts walking again. "About the case, George says that he thinks it was the wife, obviously the intelligence at Scotland Yard seems to be lowering everyday as it was clearly the girlfriend."  

"Sherlock..." I try to think about what to say but nothing comes to mind. Lifting the coffee back to my lips, I flinch at the cold taste. Dropping the cup into the garbage bin, I quickly run to catch up with Sherlock. "What makes you think it was the girlfriend?" 

"I don't think it was the girlfriend, I know it was the girlfriend. The chipped pieces of fake nails found on his collar gave it away. His wife was a chef, can't wear long nails like that working in the professional kitchen." Sherlock gives me a quick look over his shoulder. "I'm not surprised Gavin and the others messed that detail. They'd be lost without me." He smirks, digging his hands into his pockets. 

"Of course they would be lost, you're the only consulting detective in the world." I cheekily smile up at Sherlock, letting him continue to ramble on about the recent case. 


	2. Sherlock

“You certainly are something else Sherlock.” I smile at the genius as he sets his violin down on, without looking at me. “Was that an original piece?” I ask curiously, twisting my ring.

Sherlock pauses for a brief moment before slowly straightening up. Entering the kitchen, he opens the fridge door, blocking his face form my vision. “It was an original.” He replies after a brief silence, still not looking at me.

I nod with a shrug as I sit back, picking my phone back up. “Well it was very beautiful Sherlock.” Returning to scrolling through my Tumblr feed, I can hear Sherlock fumbling around in the kitchen as he begins another experiment.

We fall into a comfortable silence, both of us focused on separate tasks but I still find myself occasionally looking up at him. Absentmindedly tugging the blanket over my legs, my phone beeps with a text notification from John.

_-I’m going to be a little late but I’ll bring food. What do you what?_

_-Pizza or Chinese, doesn’t matter. Or Italian. Actually just get whatever you want, I’ll eat anything._

_-What about Sherlock?_

Looking up from my phone, I call out Sherlock’s name. He raises his head from the sink, pulling his googles onto the top of his head. “John’s going to bring home some food for dinner. What do you want?” I ask. Sherlock’s eyes narrow for a brief moment before he shrugs, his attention pulled back to whatever is in the sink.

_-Sherlock just shrugged so whatever you want I guess._

_-Pizza it is. Garlic sauce?_

_-Obviously. Stay safe._

Sending the final text, I lock my phone before tossing it onto the couch as I stand to my feet. Entering the kitchen, I open the fridge, grabbing a can of Pepsi. Leaning against the fridge door, I watch Sherlock as he lifts a human hand from the sink, setting it on the table. Wincing at the sight of the fluids dropping onto the bare surface, I grab the roll of paper towels.

“Clean your mess up once you’re done, preferable before John and the pizza is here.” I smile gently, setting the paper towels beside the rows of bottles near the hand. “We’ll probably be eating on the couch but seeing a dismembered human hand can really ruin someone’s appetite.”

Sherlock ignores me in favour of pressing the tip of his scalpel against the pad of the thumb, cutting it open. Rolling my eyes, I watch him continue his project in silence, curiosity growing within me. Eventually Sherlock looks up at me, “It’s for a case.” He says. Ah yes deductions. “Did John say anything else when he texted you?”

“He said he’ll be late and bring some food. Why?”  I raise an eyebrow at him.

“No reason. How long have you and John been dating for?” Sherlock asks me as he loudly sets the scalpel down with a clang. Before thinking, I let out a small laugh. Instantly, Sherlock tenses and starts fumbling around the kitchen, his experiment seemingly forgotten in favour of placing a bunch of bananas in the fridge and the cartoon of milk I just bought in one of the cupboard.

Rolling my eyes at the childish manner Sherlock is behaving, I lean against the counter with my arm crossed over my chest. “We’re not dating Sherlock. What on earth make you think that?” I let out a breath of laughter before quickly biting my tongue, literally.

Sherlock glares at me, searching my face for a sign that I’m not playing him along. “The two of you have become closer in recent weeks. You’ve shared more stories and jokes with him than you ever had in the first year you knew him, you’ve started sitting closer to him on the couch, even sitting with him in his chair and on occasion, when I’ve entered a room that you and John were previously in alone, you usually jump away as through you’re worried or embarrassed to be seen so close to him in an empty room. I’m not the only one, Molly and Graham, even my brother think the two of you are dating.”

Scoffing, I shake my head. “Trust me Sherlock, I’m not dating John. We’re only friends and Molly and _Greg_ know I’m not dating him. Those bastards.” Sherlock frowns at my curse and I quickly clear my throat, shaking my head again. “I meant that they know who I have feelings for and it definitely isn’t John.”

Sherlock tilts his head to watch me closely, his eyes slightly narrowed. “Who do you have feelings for?”

“What? Can’t you deduce it from me?” I grin cheekily as I playfully bump Sherlock’s shoulder on my way out of the kitchen and with a glance towards the hand, whose thumb is now oozing some sort of greenish-red fluid onto the table, I add. “Clean that up will you, it’s already putting my appetite off.”


End file.
